


To Soar Without Wings

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Angst, Angst and Porn, Established Relationship, Fallen Castiel, Jealous Castiel, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-20 16:44:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/889529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It took some time to get used to sex as a human." Lots of post-season 8 angst with smut</p><p>WARNING: PERMANENTLY UNFINISHED. Sorry, I'm not even in this fandom any more. I don't want to delete it entirely but please don't read this expecting closure or happiness okay</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It took some time to get used to sex as a human.

For months after the fall, Castiel had still automatically warned Dean to close his eyes before he came -- his Grace had always shone through his every pore at that moment of pure, uncontrollable ecstasy. Several times he had stopped the hunter before things had got too heavy, intending to remove the glass items from the room which would have shattered in his angelic Enochian screams of pleasure. The sorrowful green eyes which met his reminded him quicker each time that this precaution was no longer necessary.

The first time he managed to only grunt out "I'm gonna -- _Dean_ \--" as the waves of his orgasm took over him, he noticed that his lover had shut his eyes anyway. "You know, you could have watched me come," he suggested afterwards. "I always enjoy --" He was going to finish the sentence, _watching you come_ , but Dean had abruptly stood up and left to shower. When he emerged, towel round his waist and wet hair sticking up attractively, he merely jerked his head to offer Cas the bathroom; the water had barely started again when he left the room. 

Cas didn't understand. It had always been a source of great disappointment to Dean that he wasn't able to see the angel's face as he finally fell apart, so why wouldn't he take advantage of what might just be the only good thing to come from his being fallen? He knew better than to ask Sam about this kind of thing, but he did inquire, when he found him on the other side of the bunker, where Dean had gone. 

"I think he went for a drive," the younger Winchester told him, with an odd, slightly pitying expression. Cas nodded once. He was clothed in Dean's t shirt and jeans, which still felt uncomfortably unfamiliar to him after years in Jimmy's suit and trench coat. "You two all right?"

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "I'm rarely sure."

Sam sighed. "I'm not surprised."

"He doesn't talk about anything that matters," Cas couldn't help but complain.

"Ha! Tell me about it."

"Well, I don't know if I should --"

"Figure of speech, Cas. I don't really wanna know the details of your lover's tiff. Take him out to a bar some time, maybe getting drunk'll loosen his tongue. Doesn't usually work, but it's the only suggestion I've got. Sorry." He smiled with his mouth but not his eyes, before returning his attention to the laptop in front of him.

Cas sat still, staring at the wall. The human feeling of boredom still took him by surprise every time, and five minutes later he was fidgeting and frustrated. Sam glanced up again. "Dude, read a book. Or go join Kevin on the practice range." Since his skills as a prophet were no longer required, the teenager had been fast learning the skills involved in actual hunting. Besides, he found that shooting targets was a wonderful way to let off steam and bottled-up emotions. He'd been around the Winchesters too long. "Or eat something, have you eaten since breakfast?"

"I haven't forgotten to eat today. I'm getting better at that. I recognise hunger straight away now," he told him, voice a mixture of defensiveness, embarrassment and pride. He stood up. "I'll go and see if Kevin would like some company."

~

Kevin did not want company, but he could tell straight away that Cas did, so he put the gun down and did his best to smile welcomingly at him. "Hey Cas. How's it going?"

"I don't know," he said again, automatically honest as usual. Unsure how to reply, Kevin wordlessly offered him the gun, then wandered off to find another for himself. He weighed the weapon in his palm for a moment before shooting the remaining three rounds into the person-shaped target on the wall. Cas didn't like guns very much. He missed the simple, hand-to-hand, supernatural power of his angel blade -- but there was no point dwelling on what he didn't have any more. Easier said than done, of course. At least he hadn't been in a one-on-one fight since the fall. He didn't know if he could manage, unused to the new weakness of his body. 

But it wasn't just in battle that he missed his superhuman strength. He was still much stronger than a normal human being of his build, but it wasn't the same as knowing he had absolute physical power over humans if he ever wished to use it. Not that he often did, of course. He had liked the effortlessness of holding Dean down, though, knowing there was sufficient trust between them to make such complete surrender a pleasurable, rather than terrifying, experience even for the man whose entire existence was so characterised by betrayal, abandonment issues and lack of faith. After all he had been through -- after all Cas had done to cause distrust and even enmity between them -- he had still believed, in those moments, that he would be taken care of, never hurt. 

These days, Cas had to actively try against Dean's token struggles. Sometimes sex tired him out all over, which had never been the way before. And when they switched over, and sometimes Dean forgot himself and fucked too roughly, instead of healing instantly his hole would be sore for days. He liked the reminder, though. That was one small upside. Sex left a lasting impression in a way he hadn't previously experienced, and there were certainly times (mostly after slow, lazy morning sex, when it was gentle enough not to hurt at all but stayed with him most of the day) when he thought that that was infinitely preferable to his vessel immediately "forgetting" what had just happened -- even if his mind never did.

~

Dean returned half an hour later; Cas was nowhere to be seen. 

"Hey Sammy," he said, sounding cheerful enough. His brother raised his eyebrows. 

"Don't think I don't know you're upset about something." Dean opened his mouth to reply, but he cut in, "You know, I'm pretty sure Cas has no idea what's going on, so whatever it is, talk to him, for God's sake!"

"If I wanted relationship advice --"

"This is life advice, Dean. Friendship advice. If your friend pisses you off or hurts you or something, but they don't know what they've done, you fucking _tell_ them what it is so they can try not to do it again."

"He hasn't _done_ anything!" Dean snapped. "It's not his fault things are ... different now."

"Then don't take it out on him!"

"I'm not!"

"Well you better make sure _he_ knows that!"

"The hell's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, don't just storm out without explaining what's wrong, or of course he's gonna assume he's upset you!"

There was a long pause. Sam looked back at his laptop instead of watching Dean seethe and struggle with how to respond; finally, the older brother muttered, "Fine, whatever. Where is he then, d'you know?"

Sam shrugged. "He was down the shooting range last I knew."

"He was still there when I left," added Kevin, wandering in from the kitchen. "And no, I didn't hear your whole conversation, just that last bit." He sat down with his hotdog and began to eat.

After a slightly awkward moment, Dean headed off to find the man he still, privately, thought of as _his angel._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really sorry this took SO long, I'll try not to let it happen again!

Dean found Cas sat on the floor surrounded by gun parts, which he was methodically cleaning and sorting. An odd feeling, akin to pride, bubbled up in the hunter's chest at this familiar ritual which he himself had so often used to calm down. "Hey," he said softly, when Cas didn't immediately look up. 

"Hello Dean," came the customary greeting. His attention was still focused on the guns, though.

Dean sighed. "Listen, Cas, I'm sorry, man. I shouldn't have just disappeared on you like that."

"I used to do it to you often enough," he pointed out bitterly. _Used to._

"That's not the point. I'm saying, I know it's not your fault things are different now, and I'm sorry if I ever make you feel bad for it. I don't mean to." This was all said in a frustrated, almost pained tone, like it required extra physical effort to get such raw honesty out of his mouth.

Cas, however, merely shrugged; but his next words were growled. "Don't worry, I haven't forgotten that without my powers I'm just -- what was it? -- a baby in a trench coat." Finally putting the gun part he had been polishing down and meeting Dean's eyes, he pulled angrily at the neck of his borrowed t shirt, almost ripping it. "Without my trench coat!"

"Dude, if you don't like my clothes, we can get you more like Jimmy's, I just thought --"

"The clothes aren't the issue, Dean."

There was a long pause. Dean joined him on the floor. "I know. Uh ... sorry."

They sat in silence for a while, Cas easily switching to handing Dean the pieces to put back together once he had cleaned them. Only after all the guns were polished to within an inch of their lives and carefully reassembled did either of them speak again. 

"When I said I needed you," Dean started quietly, "I didn't mean we needed your powers. I meant _I_ need _you_ , because you're my best friend, and more than that, and I -- I care about you. Not as a resource. Not even just as someone to fuck. As a _person._ You're so damn important to me, Cas, I thought you knew that."

"I thought I did." He shifted and looked intensely at Dean, who held the eye contact. "Why did you leave so suddenly earlier?"

"I didn't like the reminder," he admitted. Somehow, it was easier to talk frankly when focused on nothing but those blue eyes which seemed to reflect the heavens even now. "I mean, I like human you just as much as angel you, but that doesn't mean I like the fact that you're stuck this way! And ... maybe it's stupid, but if I keep my eyes shut, I don't have to face the fact that you're not a bright light any more."

Cas' brow furrowed. "It used to bother you that in the moment you considered the most human experience, I became less human."

"Only the first few times we had sex!" Dean exclaimed. "Because I wasn't used to it. Now I am, and it's so ... so _you_..." He closed his eyes sadly. "One of these days, we'll get your Grace back, and everything will be right again."

"I doubt we will," Cas said resignedly. 

"Shut up, of course we will, there's gotta be a way --"

"I don't know that there is, Dean. Please ... If I'm going to be human, I'd rather you treat me like one. It will make this easier on me."

There was another quiet lull, during which Dean arranged all the guns between them in a seemingly very specific order which Cas still didn't know enough about guns to understand, then he said finally, "Okay."

"...Okay?"

He reached out to entwine his fingers with Cas'. "C'mere," he said, pulling gently, his other hand touching a stubbled cheek, and he leaned across the guns to kiss him firmly but sweetly on the mouth.

When they broke apart, just slightly, Cas whispered against Dean's lips, "I'm hungry."

"Let's go out for lunch."

"Yes, Dean, that sounds wonderful."

Deadpan as that sentence was spoken, it might have sounded sarcastic coming from anyone else, but sarcasm was one human nuance which Cas had definitely still not fully grasped. He meant every word.

~

They drove to a small diner which Dean claimed was the only place in Kansas to serve burgers as good as he could have made for them at home. Cas savoured every minute of riding shotgun in the Impala -- sometimes he felt, secretly, like "she" was his only true rival for Dean's affections, ridiculous as the thought sounded even to him; and it was still always Sam in the front seat whenever all three of them (or more, when Kevin or Charlie came too) took to the road.

He had wondered, the first time Dean had grabbed the lapels of his trench coat and kissed him, allowed himself to be pushed roughly against the wall in the flood of want and need that that simple touch of lips had awoken in the angel's very core, how the day to day dynamic of life with the Winchesters would change in light of this new development. He had kept wondering this for weeks, as they found new ways every morning and night to take each other apart, until he finally accepted the answer: _not very much._ Which led him to question what this thing between them really was. 

Neither of them had used words like "boyfriend" or "partner" yet, let alone "love". Hadn't Dean said it himself earlier? _"You're my best friend"._ And they fucked, and sometimes it was gentle, and they kissed hello and goodbye most of the time, and every now and then they might go out without Sam, and they never slept apart -- but that didn't necessarily mean they were _together._ It certainly didn't mean they were _in love._

The whole situation was so humanly complicated, it almost gave Cas a headache.

"You all right there, Cas?" Dean asked, hand finding his. He had been thinking so deeply he hadn't noticed when they pulled in to park.

"Oh," he said, "we're here."

"You been miles away, huh?"

"That's a figure of speech, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Come on, let's get something to eat and drink."

To Cas' surprise, Dean took his hand again when they had got out of the car and didn't let go all the way to the table. "Dean," he said quietly. 

"Mm?"

"Is this ... a date?"

Dean looked surprised. He hesitated only a moment before nodding. "Uh, yeah, sure. I mean, of course it's a date."

Cas was satisfied. But when a pretty young waitress with copious cleavage and a short skirt walked over to take their order, he was not surprised to see a familiar charming grin spread over the hunter’s face as his eyes flicked up and down, giving her the once-over. _Oh. Here we go again,_ he thought.

“You ready to order?”

“Well, I think I am, yeah. Cas?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” he said stonily. Dean didn’t seem to notice his tone, having barely glanced across at him in between giving the woman what could only be classed as _bedroom eyes_.

“Right then, that makes it easy. Two Budweisers and two bacon cheeseburgers with fries, please,” he smiled.

The waitress actually batted her eyelids as she responded silkily, “Coming right up, sir.” Dean’s eyes tracked her swaying hips as she walked away.

Cas looked down with a small sigh.


	3. Chapter 3

"-- said I wanted apple pie, not apple crisp, and he asked what the difference was! The _pastry_ is the important bit, you know?" Dean paused in his tirade about Sam's lack of dessert knowledge the last time they'd visited this joint. Cas hadn't said a word since they ordered. "Hey, you all right, man?"

"I thought you said this was a date."

His tone chilled Dean instantly -- low, calm, _dangerous_. "Yeah, it -- it is, what's wrong?" But just at that moment, the waitress returned with their food.

"Here you are," she said brightly, "two bacon cheeseburgers with fries, and two Budweisers."

"Thanks," he said, his flirty demeanour back immediately. She gave him a sultry look and let her hand brush over his shoulder as she walked away. As soon as she was gone, Cas half-growled, 

"That."

Dean blinked, confused. "W-what?"

" _That_ is what's wrong. If this is a _date_ , Dean, you should not be flirting with anyone but _me_."

After a moment's shocked silence, Dean spluttered, "That -- that wasn't flirting, man, that was being friendly! I mean, maybe she was into me, but I didn't say anything--"

"It wasn't what you said," Cas hissed. "Your eyes were all over her. Don't think I don't recognise an appreciative male gaze when I see one. You wanted her and she wanted you and you both made sure you both knew it."

There was a heavy pause. "I ... Cas." He reached out as if to touch the other man's hand, but stopped awkwardly. "I didn't -- I do not _want_ her, okay? I've got _you_. I mean -- I want you. I'm just used to, I dunno, trying to be charming! Jesus, Cas, if I'd known it bothered you--"

"Well you do now," he snapped, before biting viciously into his burger. Dean swallowed hard before digging in to his own. 

~

The rest of the meal passed uneventfully. (They had apple pie for dessert, of course.) As the last drops of beer hit the back of his throat, Dean pushed himself to his feet and said, "I think I'm gonna take a leak before we go, all right?"

"I'll wait here for you."

He smiled at the familiarity of that, and on an impulse, leant down and kissed Cas, the briefest brush of lips before a friendly pat on the shoulder, as he walked past him on the way to the bathroom. He was just pulling his zip back up when he heard the door open behind him. Thinking nothing of it, he turned to walk past whoever it was and leave. 

It was Cas.

"Oh hey, you wanna go while I pay the --" He was cut off mid-sentence by an almost aggressive, and entirely unexpected, kiss, the force of which made him stumble backwards a couple steps. "Cas -- what --" he flailed. Cas didn't reply straight away, but instead manhandled a bewildered but compliant (because fuck, it was hot when Cas took control like this) Dean until he was pushing him through a cubicle door, pausing only to kiss him again, bruisingly hard.

"Either you are mine," he snarled, turning to slam Dean back against the door and press flush against him, teeth at his jawline, "or you are not. Make. Your. Mind. Up."

"Fuck, Cas, I --" He grunted in surprise as Cas' hands shoved up his t shirt and palms spread over his chest. A thumb brushed over his nipple and he bucked his hips, biting back a groan when he realised how hard they both were already. "Are we – what are we doing here --“

“ _Dean_.” His voice was almost too low for human ears to hear and the hunter actually shivered slightly. He trailed his fingers down Dean’s sides, nails scratching lightly, before resting them on his belt buckle and looking up.

Dean inhaled sharply as Cas’ eyes met his. “Cas,” he breathed.

"Say it."

"Say -- what?"

Cas pushed a hand down between Dean's jeans and underwear to cup him roughly, causing him to almost yelp at the unexpected friction. "Are you mine or not?"

"Fuck, Cas, right now I'm anything you fucking want me to be --"

Wrong answer. Cas jerked his hand out again and pulled back, all physical contact suddenly broken. For one wild moment he expected him to disappear -- or strike him across the face. His voice was a mixture of disappointment and danger as he said, "That's not the point, Dean." But he quickly undid his belt and jeans anyway, pushing them down his legs along with his underwear in one quick motion. "Turn around."

"Cas --"

"Turn around."

Dean took a deep breath, reminded himself that he trusted him, and turned around. Hearing a cap popping behind him, he glanced curiously over his shoulder. "You -- heh -- brought lube to a diner?"

"You left it in the pocket of the jeans I'm wearing," Cas stated, and unceremoniously pushed the first slick finger inside Dean, who made a small noise and tried to relax. Fuelled by a jealous possessiveness, he was certainly not going slowly. By the time he had worked his way up to the third finger, Dean was biting his lip against the stretch and a steady whine was spilling from his throat; the pain -- just this side of too much -- mixed with pleasure -- just this side of not enough. His head was spinning, his grip tight on the top of the cubicle door. 

Then, suddenly and without warning, Cas was pulling all three fingers out to lube up his cock, and he was empty. He let all his breath out at once, reduced to ragged panting.

Cas brought one arm up between Dean and the door to hold him by the shoulder. It was the closest he could get, in this position, to the handprint, his mark, his brand. "Dean." He lined his dick up to replace his fingers, pushing in slowly but steadily in one movement and keeping just enough control despite the tight heat of Dean's ass to say as he did so, "I claimed your soul the moment I gripped you in hell. The moment you offered me your body, I claimed that too." He paused, waiting for a response, forcing himself to remain still.

"Cas..." Soon enough Dean was trying to rock his hips, but, caught between Cas' body and the firmly shut door, he could do very little. He wasn't sure what was going on here, psychologically -- was this jealousy sex? What point was Cas trying to make, and did he agree? But he was too out of it, too lost in the heady rush of having surrendered all power over the situation to the ex-soldier of heaven behind and inside him, to worry; all he knew was what his body wanted, and his body wanted Cas to fucking _move_ already. His voice broke as he said, "Please. Cas. Move."

He almost seemed to obey. He pulled most of the way out -- then halted again. Dean whimpered. "Say that again."

Dean struggled to get his words together. "M-please, move, Cas, pl-please?"

Cas slammed back in, and after that there was no more hesitation. He kept up a steady pace of thrusts, not taking care, for once, whether he was hitting Dean's prostate or not; this time it wasn't about mutual pleasure, it was about staking a claim -- a claim that, the way Cas saw it, should have been considered declared many months ago. "There's only _one_ more thing I need you to _let_ me claim," he growled into Dean's ear. "Do I _have_ \-- nn --" He trailed off into a moan he couldn't contain, and listened for a moment to the litany of,

"Yes, yes, _Cas_..." coming from Dean's lips.

"You don't know what I'm -- asking," Cas panted. "Do I have your -- your --" He was getting close, fighting for self-control. " _Love_ ," he spat out. Dean made a small, choked sound and gripped the door even harder. There were tears in both men's eyes. Cas repeated his question in time with his thrusts -- _"do -- I -- have -- your -- FUCKING -- LOVE --"_ and with one final wordless groan, he came.

The stall went quiet, save for their panting breaths. After a moment Cas slipped out, and Dean whimpered slightly, releasing the door and letting his hands drop; he made no other sound.

"No?"

"Cas, I -- I don't -- I --"

"Fine." He pushed him to one side and pulled up his zip. "I'll leave you to finish yourself off, then." The frustration at not being able to disappear bubbled up in the fallen angel again, so much that he broke into a half-run as he left the bathroom, muttering to the surprised waitress as he passed, "My _friend_ will pay the bill."

Dean sat heavily down on the toilet and took himself in hand. Somehow he wasn't really feeling it ... but best get the job done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the sex is here! This is my first smut fic so I hope it's okay.  
> By the way, I already have some plot worked out for the next chapter but I've been (and continue to be) very busy with moving, so it'll be a few more days before I can get started writing it. Hopefully it won't take long once I get down to it though, cause I know what I want to happen :)


End file.
